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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29842857">seam-ripper</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/duskglow/pseuds/duskglow'>duskglow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(which is probably all projection babey), 2nd yr Asahi/1st yr Nishinoya, Asahi's Canon Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:33:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,651</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29842857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/duskglow/pseuds/duskglow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Asahi’s life is prone to falling apart at the very seams, something he has been aware of since his unfortunate birth approximately sixteen long, hard years ago. Due to the infallible accuracy of this fact, Asahi begins his second year of high school by getting involved in his very first physical altercation; he is subsequently subjected to what might be considered the most embarrassing social situation of the decade. And to top it all off with the perfect catastrophe cherry on the disaster sundae that is Asahi’s miserable existence, Suga is <i>laughing</i> at him.</p>
</blockquote>Or, the story of Asahi and Nishinoya’s near-disastrous get-together.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>133</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>seam-ripper</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>alternatively titled: The One In Which Asahi Just Sweats A Lot</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>It begins like this: Asahi wakes up the morning that his second year starts and resolves to leave his scaredy-cat disposition at the front door of his childhood home. It doesn't really suit his image anymore; not when he has the suggestion of wispy hairs at the bottom of his chin, as well as the additional height from the growth spurt he’d been gifted in early spring. He makes the short trek to school with his head held relatively high, chest as puffed out as he’d dared, and makes it as far as the front doors of Karasuno High School before he is immediately smacked in the face by a rowdy first-year’s errant fist.</p><p>The first year doesn’t even look at Asahi, too busy roughhousing — or maybe actually fighting? Oh, God, an actual fight on the first day — with another first year, one with short blond curls and a feral grin. They’re yelling incoherently at each other, loud enough to attract a sizable crowd. The guy who knocked into him not a moment earlier swings a fist, hard. They <em> are </em> actually fighting.</p><p>Asahi processes all of this in what feels like slow motion. He stumbles, trying to back away from the entire scene as quickly as possible because the people who have begun to gather are forming a circle around the two boys, and around Asahi by extension. Asahi’s eyes catch on silver and there’s Suga, phone out and eagerly recording the entire thing, because of course he is. He doesn’t seem to notice Asahi, which is good, because right now Asahi’s main priority is to get as far away from this scene as fast as humanly possible without people seeing or recognizing him. Maybe the whole confidence goal for this year was a bit of a stretch. Is there something lower than self-confidence? A more realistic goal? Comfortable, maybe. He should’ve shot for <em> comfortable</em>.</p><p>Of course, luck has never really ever been on his side, so before he can move again and finally break through the circle, the guy who had just hit him moments ago is pushed backward by the other guy. He trips over his own feet and then the undone laces of his sneakers — which are definitely not a part of the school dress code — and slams into Asahi with a startling amount of force considering the size of his very small body. And because Asahi’s life is, once again, prone to falling apart at the seams, he’d been in the middle of taking a step, so he loses his balance and awkwardly falls backward. The other guy follows, flopping on top of Asahi with all of the grace of a newborn calf.</p><p>The guy is actually a lot smaller than he looks, so Asahi barely even feels the impact. What he does feel, however, is an unrelenting and intense sense of abject mortification as all eyes of what seems to be the entire student body turn onto him.</p><p>Asahi thinks he hears Suga murmur, “Oh, no.” He doesn’t know, can’t tell over the pounding of his own heart and everyone is looking at him and he’s just made an absolute fool of himself, sprawled on the floor, an unwilling participant in a first-year’s fistfight. And now the guy, still on top of him — is looking at him, too. Asahi’s heart rate pitches and plummets all at once.</p><p>The first-year’s eyes are big and brown and intense. He has a shock of bleach-blond hair at the top of his head, fringe falling to obscure unruly brows. He’s really short, probably a whole head shorter than Asahi, and his limbs are gangly. He’s kind of holding onto Asahi’s arm. His fingers are small. This all registers in a singular moment in which there is a prolonged stretch of eerie silence. Not even the spectators are making any movements, a sudden hush falling over the crowd.</p><p>So of course, the first year just <em> has </em> to grab ahold of both of Asahi’s hands, bring them up to his chest — where Asahi can feel the steady pulsing of his heart, a direct contrast to his own rapid thumping — and say, at a volume that practically the whole school can hear, “You are the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen and I’m going to date the <em> shit </em> out of you.”</p><p>Asahi is allowed a second to think, distantly, that he’d probably be able to find peace living as a shepherd in the countryside of an obscure Scandanavian village. Or maybe in an isolated cottage hidden away in a dark forest, or maybe some remote tiny island in the middle of the ocean. Somewhere far, far away from here, where nobody can bother him except for farm animals. Cows and goats would be preferable, but Asahi would definitely settle for a few chickens. Chickens are nice. Chickens won’t contribute to his growing sense of dread for both life and living.</p><p>This moment of inner peace and reflection of a wonderful, solitary future is shattered shortly by all-encompassing, heavy silence. More silence follows in which Asahi just stares at the guy and feels his face turn progressively deeper shades of tomato-red; it’s only broken when Suga stifles a snort into the sleeve of his uniform jacket. The other first-year, the blond, curly-haired guy, groans. “Noya, dude, you don’t even <em> know </em> the guy.” So maybe they are friends after all. Friends who love to give each other nosebleeds on the first day of school in the middle of the main lobby by the shoe lockers.</p><p>Giggles rapidly break out among the other students, and Asahi’s mortification increases <em> tenfold</em>. Maybe a hundredfold, if possible, and he’s still on the ground, limbs positively frozen. The guy on top of him hisses, “Shut up, Ryuu! It’s love at first sight, haven’t you ever heard of it?”</p><p>Oh, God, Asahi’s going to have a heart attack. He’s going to pass out. “Um, excuse me,” he mumbles, and he does his best to politely remove the first-year from his lap, which is actually pretty easy since he doesn’t weigh all that much at all. “Sorry. I should — I have to go now. I’m sorry. Um… Sorry.”</p><p>He attempts to stand up but the first-year grabs onto his wrist before he can go anywhere. His fingers aren’t long enough to wrap around Asahi’s wrist completely, and Asahi thinks it’s cute, and then immediately wants to die because<em> what the hell</em>. This guy had just publicly humiliated Asahi, and yet here he is with his big dumb gay heart, looking at the first-year’s fingers and thinking they would probably feel nice wedged between Asahi’s own. Asahi is going to die.</p><p>“I will see you again, mysterious cute guy,” The first-year tells him, a way too determined of an expression on his face, “And when I do, I’ll romance the <em> socks </em> off of you.”</p><p>“I — um,” Asahi tries to pull his wrist away. “Okay. Please let me go?”</p><p>He does but his eyes don’t leave Asahi’s face. It’s at that moment that Suga appears, offering a smile and words of polite pardon to the first-years, and then proceeding to grab Asahi’s elbow and pull him away. Suga is the devil incarnate about 90% of the time but an actual angel the other 10% and Asahi has never been more thankful for his friend because he’s unsure if he ever would have made it out of there alive and intact without him. Asahi follows numbly, exchanging his shoes at his locker and remaining quiet the whole way up the flight of stairs. It’s only when he gets to the classroom — it’s Suga’s homeroom, not even his own — that he falls into a random seat and begins to collapse into himself horrifically, a bit like a dying star. </p><p>And then Suga starts to laugh.</p><p>“Suga… I was just publicly humiliated,” Asahi says, slowly, “And… You're laughing.”</p><p>Suga laughs so hard that he snorts.</p><p>“You’re <em> laughing</em>,” Asahi repeats, louder over the sound of Suga’s laughter, and will also likely attract attention which is the last thing that Asahi needs. “You’re laughing at me. I can’t believe this. Shit. I’m going to die.”</p><p>Suga stifles a few more giggles into his hands. “No, you’re not.”</p><p>“I can feel it. My heart is going to explode. Okay... It’s fine. I’m fine.”</p><p>“You <em> are </em> fine! You’re great.”</p><p>He is not fine; it was a lie. “Suga, everyone saw. Everyone was looking at me, and that — that first-year, he was so —“</p><p>“Cute?”</p><p>“<em>Embarrassing!</em>” Asahi exclaims. The laughs have died down so he peers up at Suga, who is perched on the desk next to Asahi’s and looking endlessly patient. He will most definitely make an amazing schoolteacher one day, if he doesn't end up laughing in his students’ faces whenever they do anything remotely embarrassing. “He just — he — who does that! I don’t even know him!”</p><p>“Something tells me that you’ll get the chance to, though. If I recall correctly, he promised to romance the <em> socks </em> off of you. Emphasis on socks.”</p><p>“I don’t want to be romanced!” Asahi protests, voice rapidly approaching hysteria. Suga raises a skeptical brow. “Just— okay, maybe just not in public,” he amends. “And not by a first-year that gets into fights on the first day of school! Suga, that was so embarrassing. I’m going to die.”</p><p>“Man, did I miss the annual first-day-Asahi-breakdown of the year?” There’s Daichi, walking up the aisle of desks and plopping down at the one in front of Suga. They exchange easy smiles. </p><p>“Oh, you’ll never guess,” Suga says, eyes sparkling in a way that can only be described as charmingly evil. “He was confessed to. By a first-year who was in the middle of a fistfight. In front of a good chunk of the student population. I’m sure the gossip is already reaching the rest.”</p><p>Daichi stares. “Seriously?”</p><p>“Mhm,” Suga nods.</p><p>Daichi sucks in a breath through his teeth. “You know, Asahi, usually I’d give you shit, but I think your breakdown might be justified this time around.”</p><p>Suga whacks him in the arm. “Don’t say that! Now he’s gonna freak out about it for the rest of the week!”</p><p>“Try <em> month</em>,” Asahi mutters miserably. “Why did this have to happen to me? Suga’s the cute one. Why wasn’t he confessed to by a first-year? He would’ve handled it so much better.”</p><p>Suga rolls his eyes. “I’m <em> not </em> the cute one.”</p><p>“You kind of are,” Daichi says, and then they both do this weird thing where they look at each other and look away, cheeks dusted with glowing pink, and this is definitely a new development, but one that Asahi decidedly does <em> not </em> have time for.</p><p>“I’m going to die,” Asahi mutters, mostly to himself. He’s going to die and now his best friends are <em> pining </em> for each other. And he’s going to have to third wheel at all of their future dates because he doesn’t have any other friends. This is <em> terrible</em>.</p><p>“Listen, Asahi,” Daichi says, and puts on his best authoritative voice, which will certainly do well when he is inevitably chosen as team captain next year. He also places his hand on Asahi’s shoulder; Asahi feels as though he’s two seconds away from calling him <em> son</em>. “People are going to forget all about this tomorrow. Hell, probably by the end of the day. It’ll blow over before you know it. Also, on the plus side — you can vent your frustration at practice! Suga will set for you.”</p><p>Suga grins, toothy, and thrusts out a thumbs up. “I’ll toss them high and close to the net, just for you!”</p><p>Asahi sighs, scrubs his hands over his face and through his hair. It’s just short enough that he can’t successfully tie it back, having to settle for headbands during practice to keep the hair out of his eyes. Right now, though, he just wants to use it as a curtain to hide behind. “Okay,” he says. It kind of does help to think about their first practice of the year. The three of them had been practicing all spring, after all, and Suga’s quicks have improved a lot. “Thanks.”</p><p>Daichi beams. “No problem. Now lighten up, seriously. It’s the first day of second year! We have a lot to look forward to.” His eyes catch on something, and he looks up and grins. “Hey, Kiyoko!”</p><p>Asahi turns and tries his best not to look outwardly intimidated, because he definitely finds Kiyoko extremely intimidating on a number of levels. His fear can mainly be attributed to the fact that she possesses an ethereal type of beauty which really makes Asahi sweat a lot. He’s very much gay and not at all attracted to her, but Kiyoko is objectively one of the prettiest people he’s probably ever seen, besides Suga when he’s being nice and the starting setter from Aoba Johsai with the fancy hair and long legs, and it kind of makes his stomach rock. </p><p>She strolls up to their cluster of desks. Her hair has grown longer, inky black, and tucked into a side ponytail, and she has new frames for her glasses, rectangles that make her look all the more intelligent and scary. Like a very pretty librarian who doubles as a model in her spare time.</p><p>“Hello,” she says, and nods her head to each one of them. “I hope you all are doing well.”</p><p>Suga and Daichi nod. Asahi huffs something unintelligible and goes back to staring blankly out the window.</p><p>“Asahi’s hit a bit of a rough patch,” Suga says sympathetically.</p><p>“It’s the first day,” Kiyoko says, confused. “Class hasn’t even started yet.”</p><p>“Yes,” Daichi confirms. “This is not unusual, believe it or not.”</p><p>“I want to go home,” Asahi mutters.</p><p>She nudges Asahi’s shoulder and smiles gently. “Well, get excited for practice. We have five first-year applicants for the team.”</p><p>“Five?” Daichi exclaims. “That’s a good number.”</p><p>Kiyoko nods, pleasantly flushed from excitement. Her eyes straight-up sparkle. “I’m excited to meet them. There’s supposedly a really good libero, too, which is good. We need one.” And then she turns to find her seat at the back of the room. The bell rings overhead; Asahi sighs.</p><p>“Guess I should get going to my classroom,” he mutters, not at all looking forward to feeling the heavy, judgemental gazes of his classmates. “See you later.”</p><p>“Stay strong, Asahi!” Suga says as Asahi walks out into the hallway. “Just make it to the end of the day!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The catch — because there is always a catch in Asahi’s miserable little ripped-seam life — is that at the end of the school day, when club activities commence and Asahi walks into the gym after changing into his practice clothes, he’s slapped in the face with bursts of loud yelling.</p><p>When he turns, he sees, to his absolute horror, <em>Noya</em>, the first-year from that morning who had confessed to Asahi and told him that he planned on romancing him. He’s dressed in practice clothes, a t-shirt that says <em> One Man Army </em> and kneepads and an arm brace, too, and oh, God, he’s here for <em> volleyball</em>. He’s in the middle of saying, “Yeah, man, I’m a libero!” to another first-year who has a sleepy expression, and Asahi contemplates his next step. He could stay here and brave the storm that is the terribly awkward social situation just ahead, or he could turn and flee as far from the gym as humanly possible, head home and get under the covers and forget all about this horrible, humiliating day.</p><p>Daichi and Suga intercept him at the steps outside the gym door. “Where do you think you’re going?” Suga tuts, dragging Asahi by his arm.</p><p>“Come on,” Daichi says, pushing Asahi forward. “It can’t be that bad.”</p><p>They ignore Asahi’s protests and manage to wrangle him inside, and he is immediately met with the dropped jaw of Noya, whose intense eyes are wide as hell and trained directly on him. Asahi looks everywhere but at the first-year. Suga has to school his face into a normal expression, and Asahi <em> knows </em> he’s dying to let out a laugh or two at the incredible irony of the situation. Asahi wonders, momentarily, if maybe he’d done something to anger a random deity in a past life, and had been cursed to be tortured with extreme embarrassment with seemingly no end.</p><p>“Hey, guys,” Suga starts. “Our captain will be here shortly, so we’re gonna have to wait until he shows to actually start practice. It’s nice to see you all! We’re the second-years on the team. I’m Sugawara, but you can call me Suga. I’m one of the setters.”</p><p>Daichi goes next. “Sawamura Daichi, defensive specialist. I play opposite.”</p><p>“Future captain,” Suga stage whispers to the first-years, who titter excitedly, and Daichi nudges Suga softly. A blush rises in his cheeks.</p><p>Then all eyes are on Asahi — in particular, Noya’s, which look positively enthralled — and he squirms until Suga elbows him hard in the ribs. “Azumane Asahi,” he mumbles, looking down at the ground. “Outside wing spiker.”</p><p>“Sorry about him,” Suga says, pleasant and airy as ever. “He’s a bit shy. Wait ‘til you see him on the court, though. Our ace is a monster!”</p><p>“Suga,” Asahi protests weakly.</p><p>“You’re the ace?” Noya pipes up almost immediately. Asahi looks at him reluctantly. His eyes are still so wide and earnest and intense all the same and Asahi can’t look at him for any longer than a few seconds before his face gets too hot.</p><p>“Yes,” he answers, quiet.</p><p>“That’s so cool,” Noya breathes. “I’m going to receive all of your spikes!”</p><p>Everyone stares at him for a moment, and then Suga bursts into loud laughter. His laugh is contagious when it’s not at Asahi’s expense, all ugly-loud snorting, so everyone else joins in, too, except for Asahi, who stands there in a wonderful combo-hit attack of shock and misery.</p><p>“What’s your name?” Daichi asks.</p><p>“Nishinoya Yuu,” he says proudly, chest puffed up. He looks like a little bird. He’s so confident.</p><p>“Oh, you’re the libero from Chidoriyama.”</p><p>“That’d be me,” he grins. “Best libero in the prefecture.”</p><p>“Way to be humble, bro,” and there’s the other first year from this morning, the one that Nishinoya had been throwing punches at. Asahi blinks at him.</p><p>“Being humble is overrated, dude, you gotta brag about your skills more,” he says, and then the other guy nods after careful consideration, and they fistbump. Asahi is so confused by their very strange dynamic and the fact that they were literally fist-fighting earlier, and he immediately resolves to never ask about it.</p><p>They get a few more introductions out of the way — Tanaka is the loud, rowdy blond, and Ennoshita is the tired-looking one, and there are two others, Kinoshita and Narita — and then Daichi is clapping his hands and saying, “Well, listen, why don’t we pair up and pass to each other for a bit before our captain gets here? I think he’s talking to Takeda, our sponsor, so it may take a while. Grab a partner and get warmed-up.”</p><p>The first-years straighten up and chorus out a bunch of yessirs. Suga immediately snatches Daichi’s elbow and brings him over to the ball cart, where Kiyoko is standing and handing out balls. He pointedly doesn’t meet Asahi’s eyes and Asahi <em> knows </em> that his pairing up with Daichi and Daichi alone was intentional, because usually they can manage to pass as a trio and everything is just fine. Asahi has never wanted to bolt more in his life.</p><p>As if sensing his impending dilemma, Nishinoya materializes in front of him and exacerbates it by asking, very loudly, “Do you have a partner?”</p><p>Asahi considers rejecting Nishinoya right here and now, just on principle. He also considers the fact that Nishinoya is apparently one of the most skilled liberos in the prefecture, and that his bumps are probably really good, and Asahi sucks at passing, so it would be in his best interest to pair up with him. And, of course, he considers a third option: straight-up leaving. But when his eyes dart to the gym doors Suga and Daichi are standing there, blocking the way and watching Asahi with matching grins on their faces. So Asahi really only has two viable options.</p><p>“Uh, no,” Asahi says awkwardly, and Nishinoya lights up.</p><p>“Great!” he says, and then he snatches Asahi’s wrist and tugs him over to the ball cart. Once again, his fingers are really small, short and stubby but undeniably warm and Asahi feels a bit like he should maybe decay and become one with the earth so as to not experience emotions ever again. He hates the fluttering feeling in his stomach — it feels way too close to anxiety to be all that enjoyable.</p><p>Suga shoots him a wink as Nishinoya drags Asahi off to their own corner of the gym. Asahi considers sending a rude gesture back, but figures that it isn’t worth it. It’s exactly what Suga wants, anyway.</p><p>Nishinoya doesn’t even wait for Asahi to get ready, he just gets down and tosses the ball up into the air. Asahi scrambles to get it back up, and then they’re going, passing easily. Nishinoya makes it really easy, actually. Despite Asahi’s less than satisfactory bumping skills, he easily manages to get the ball up and right to the spot where Asahi is standing.</p><p>“So, how long have you been playing?” Nishinoya asks as Asahi bumps the ball.</p><p>“Um,” Asahi says, between breaths, “Four years, now?”</p><p>Nishinoya whistles. “Not bad,” he says, and then he grins big. “Guessing you didn’t work much on passing, though.”</p><p>Asahi fumbles and sends the ball up short. Nishinoya gets there anyway.</p><p>“Just joking,” he says easily. “But if you ever need a passing tutor, I’m your guy.”</p><p>“Okay,” Asahi says. He doesn’t know what else he could possibly say. His face is burning. So is Suga’s gaze which is absolutely directed at Asahi’s back. Asahi will remember this and he will also find a painful way to exact revenge on him one day in the near future.</p><p>“Wanna pepper?” Nishinoya asks after a few more back-and-forths, and he catches the ball after Asahi sends it his way. </p><p>Asahi looks around. Everyone else is still passing but he figures it won’t be that big of a deal if they move on. He really, really wants to hit a ball, so he nods and Nishinoya tosses the ball back up and lets Asahi bump it back. Nishinoya sets it up — not the best set, a little off center and way too high — but Asahi waits for it to come back down, arms up and ready, and when it’s at the right height he flicks his wrist and snaps the ball down, hard. Nishinoya is there immediately, digging under the ball and popping it back up into the air.</p><p>He’s grinning like a madman when he stands back up. “Dude,” he says, as Asahi goes to set it up, “That was freakin’ <em> awesome</em>. You’re amazing.”</p><p>The ball glances off of Asahi’s fingertips and falls down to the ground pathetically. “Um,” he says, trying in vain to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. “I, uh. Thank you.”</p><p>Nishinoya laughs. “Jeez, for an ace you sure have a heart of glass!”</p><p>“Yes. Yes, he does. Excellent observation, Nishinoya Yuu from Chidoriyama,” Suga says, coming up behind Asahi and clapping him on the shoulder. “Also, that’s no way to talk to your upperclassman.”</p><p>Nishinoya looks like he’s about to collapse onto the ground and beg for forgiveness when Daichi interrupts. “He’s just joking. Takeda and Kurokawa just got here, though, so we should go circle up and get our more official introductions out of the way. At least now Asahi has time to psych himself up before he has to speak in front of a bunch of people.”</p><p>“Not cool, Daichi,” Asahi mutters, but trails after his two traitorous best friends anyway.</p><p>Nishinoya doesn’t let him get too far. He grabs onto Asahi’s wrist again. “We should be passing partners,” Nishinoya tells him. There is no wiggle room in his statement. His gaze is piercing and it makes Asahi shift on his feet. “I like peppering with you.”</p><p>Like an absolute idiot, he finds himself saying, “Oh, I mean. Um, okay. Me too. That’s fine.”</p><p>Nishinoya grins, blinding. There’s a notch cut into his eyebrow that Asahi hadn’t noticed before. His ears are pierced with little silver studs which are definitely not allowed on the court. His eyes scrunch up and they’re really, really warm. So is his hand on Asahi’s skin, but he is quick to let go and then run up to Tanaka, who had been passing with Ennoshita, and begin to ramble at him excitedly. He jumps up and down in place while he does so. It’s incredibly endearing.</p><p>Asahi starts to sweat.</p><p>“Oh,” he whispers to himself, as mortifying revelation sets deep into his bones. “Oh, no.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Asahi may or may not have a new crush.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“So,” Suga starts as they’re gathering up balls after practice ends a few weeks later. “How’s the whole Nishinoya situation going?”</p><p>The fact that there is even a so-called Nishinoya situation to begin with is kind of horrible and embarrassing. Nishinoya himself is embarrassingly loud and forward, and not shameless in the least. He follows Asahi around during practice. He talks at him loudly in the hallways. He invades the second year’s wing with Tanaka at his side just to see him, all while Tanaka makes heart-eyes at Kiyoko, who is of course pleasantly oblivious to all of his mooning. Asahi was not granted the same privilege. </p><p>The worst thing about all of this is that Asahi actually kind of maybe really <em> likes </em> Nishinoya, which goes against every single piece of rigid logic and protocol instilled in Asahi’s stupid breakable glass heart. But it kind of makes sense anyway, in a twisted way.</p><p>Nishinoya is kind and excitable and he always fills the awkward silences that Asahi never knows how to fill. He never runs out of things to talk about. He’s annoyingly attractive, too, and Asahi feels like he shouldn’t be because he's five foot zero and loud and the exact opposite of Asahi’s usual type (tall-ish, mean, and glaringly pretty) anyway. Nishinoya isn’t necessarily pretty or refined. But he’s got big brown eyes and fluffy hair and he’s a little rough and rowdy around the edges, and Asahi doesn’t even care. In turn, Nishinoya doesn’t care that Asahi’s an anxious wreck about 75% of the time and completely silent the other 25%. He seems to genuinely like Asahi, for some unknown reason; and Asahi, regrettably, unfortunately, feels the same way, maybe. Sort of.</p><p>Not that he’d ever say so.</p><p>Out loud.</p><p>To Suga, anyway.</p><p>“There is no situation,” Asahi lies, because it’s <em> Suga</em>, and this is the last thing that Asahi needs. “It’s just — it’s not like that.”</p><p>“Really?” Suga shoots a ball into the cart like it’s a basketball. “Because from my standpoint, it really seems that way. Asahi, you blush every time he so much as looks at you.”</p><p>“I blush whenever anyone looks at me!” Asahi protests. “I have anxiety and I don’t like the attention!”</p><p>“Ah, but you like <em> his </em> attention.”</p><p>Asahi whines pathetically. “Suga, please. Why don’t you worry about the thing that’s going on between you and Daichi? That should be your priority, really.”</p><p>Suga does not react the way Asahi had hoped he would — i.e, flustered yelling and a shameful flush high on his cheeks. Instead, he waves a nonchalant hand and says,  “Oh, I am worrying, believe me. Daichi is a wonderful, handsome, highly-capable guy, but he is not perceptive in the least when it comes to these things. I talked to Yui, you know, his middle school best friend? They dated for a month or two back then, and she said it took him half the school year to realize that she had been trying to ask him out.”</p><p>“Yikes,” Asahi says, not knowing what else he could possibly say.</p><p>Suga nods in solemn agreement. “So really, Asahi, you have it good. Nishinoya is shameless. The least you could do is <em> try </em> to express that you like him back.”</p><p>“I don’t like him back,” Asahi lies again. It sounds even weaker than before.</p><p>Suga pats him on the shoulder. “Sure you don’t.” He points to the opposite corner of the gym. “You missed a ball, big guy.”</p><p>“I hate you,” Asahi says, but he goes to retrieve it anyway.</p><p>“No, you don’t!” Suga calls.</p><p> </p><p>Fifteen minutes later finds Asahi making his way home, kicking his shoes along the concrete.  He really likes post-practice walks, because the sun will start to set right at the end of practice and it makes the sky all orangey-pink, which is really pretty. And sometimes that stray cat will be out, and it doesn’t care that Asahi’s big and lumbering and scary as it threads itself between his legs, mewling for pets. When the world is being particularly forgiving, the man behind the counter at the general store will slide him an extra power bar or meat bun and puff his cigarette smoke away from Asahi’s face. He treasures those moments, seals them away in the back of his mind to remember when he’s feeling particularly overwhelmed. Sunsets and cute cats and steaming meat buns; packages of calm to mentally unbox during hard, stressful moments.</p><p>Of course, all of this changes this school year, when the new first years arrive and Nishinoya crashes his walk.</p><p>Presently, standing in front of Sakanoshita are Nishinoya and Tanaka. Asahi’s eyes, as usual, go straight to Nishinoya. He’s got his kneepads down around his ankles, volleyball shoes dangling at his side from where they’re tied by the laces onto his backpack. There’s bruises on his arms, peeking out beneath the white cotton of his shirt. It says <em> Mighty Warrior </em> on the front. He looks intimidating at a distance. At this point, Asahi knows better.</p><p>“Hey!” Nishinoya calls, eyes widening as he spots Asahi. He’s holding a popsicle that stains his mouth blue a bit. </p><p>“Hey,” Asahi says back, and his voice doesn’t even waver, this time. He relishes in this silent victory.</p><p>Nishinoya turns and mumbles a few things to Tanaka, who is sporting an expression that looks to be a mix of exasperation and encouragement. He shoves Nishinoya in Asahi’s direction then heads back into Sakanoshita. </p><p>“Yo,” Nishinoya says again, and he jogs a bit to catch up with Asahi; Asahi obligingly slows his pace. “You going this way?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Asahi answers. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets so that he won’t be tempted to wring his wrists. “Are you?”</p><p>Nishinoya hums in confirmation. “Live two blocks away from the store.”</p><p>“Oh,” Asahi says. “I live four blocks away.”</p><p>“We’ll walk together, then,” Nishinoya says, and he begins to walk. Asahi feels as though he doesn't really have a choice but to follow.</p><p>“I like your hair,” Nishinoya says out of the blue. He’s still eating his popsicle. He bites into it, which is scary but also somehow makes sense because Nishinoya just seems like the type of person to do that.</p><p>Then Asahi actually processes the compliment and proceeds to trip over his own two feet and almost eat dirt. “Oh,” he says once he’s recovered, and a hand that has a will of its own reaches up to tug on the ends of a lock. “Um… Thank you.”</p><p>Nishinoya hums. They keep walking, and it’s silent but it’s not awkward. Asahi really likes that. Until Nishinoya speaks and shatters it.</p><p>“You know,” Nishinoya starts casually, the popsicle stick dangling from his mouth as he stretches his arms up over his head. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll leave you alone. I don’t want to make you feel weird, or anything.”</p><p>Asahi blinks, then flounders. “No! It’s not — it’s not you! I think you’re really — really nice.” Good one, Asahi. Smooth. He wants to sink into the earth and become one with the dirt.</p><p>“<em>Nice</em>,” Nishinoya repeats, and he looks over with a brow quirked skeptically and a smirk playing at his lips. Nice is such a filler word, Asahi thinks miserably. Nice doesn’t even begin to cover the extent of all of the great qualities that Nishinoya possesses, but apparently Asahi cannot for the life of him get his brain to work in his favor even once. And he feels lame and a bit angry at himself, too.</p><p>“Yeah,” Asahi says anyway, eyes trained on the tips of his shoes.</p><p>“I'm sensing a <em>but</em>, here.”</p><p>Asahi stops walking and sighs. Against his own better judgement, he takes a deep breath and speaks. “Just… I have a lot of… I get a lot of anxiety in certain social situations and I don’t do very well when everyone is looking at me, because it’s makes me super nervous. And Suga and Daichi know and they’re trying to get me to step outside my comfort zone more nowadays, but it’s still so hard so sometimes I panic a bit and I start to sweat a lot. And I don’t really know how to talk to people besides my friends, especially — especially you, because you’re so — you’re so <em> you</em>. You know? And I’m just... me. And I’m not saying that you should stop talking to me or anything because — because you’re probably way too cool to be talking to me in the first place, but you do <em> anyway,</em> and I think I maybe kind of like you, too, sort of, a little bit,” he finishes lamely. It only takes a second for the all-encompassing mortification to sink in, and his face goes so hot that he momentarily fears he is succumbing to spontaneous human combustion.</p><p>In his periphery he sees Nishinoya staring at him, mouth agape and eyes still open so damn wide and Asahi really, really wishes he did not open his mouth sometimes because things like that tend to come out when he least expects it. Had he just confessed? To <em> Nishinoya? Out loud? </em></p><p>I am going to die, Asahi thinks, and he waits for the enormity of what he just did to really hit which will probably effectively make his heart stop beating.</p><p>Then Nishinoya laughs, loud and happy. Asahi blinks at him, dread momentarily forgotten. </p><p>He really likes Nishinoya’s laugh. </p><p>Suga’s is evil and Daichi’s is low and Asahi doesn’t think he’s ever even heard Kiyoko laugh but Nishinoya laughs and it makes Asahi’s heart sing in his chest. It’s rays of sunshine in the early morning and birds chirping sweet songs, and it’s the taste of soda-flavored ice cream and the feeling that a good spike leaves in Asahi’s palm. Stinging in the best way possible. A good ache that doesn’t itch.</p><p>Another boxed moment to seal away and cherish.</p><p>“Alright then, Asahi,” Noya says happily, beginning to walk ahead. “I like you, I really do. And I will no longer attempt to romance you publicly. But if it’s alright with you, I’d like to continue to do so quietly. Just you and me.”</p><p>Asahi, at a loss for words, mumbles, “Oh, uh. Okay.” </p><p>And Noya grins triumphantly, fist pumping into the air, a sight to behold in front of a rose-golden sunset sky. And that’s that.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>But it isn't, really.</p><p>The romancing starts off small. Noya shares snacks with Asahi on their now-routine walk back home and gets him chocolate milk from the vending machines. He slips sweet notes everywhere — Asahi’s backpack, his notebooks, his shoe locker, the pockets of his uniform jacket. They always say things like <em> you look really cute today </em> or <em> you smell nice </em> or <em> i really want to touch your hair </em> and they never fail to make Asahi flush from his roots to the tips of his toes when he unfolds them during lunch.</p><p>“That is <em> adorable</em>,” Suga tells him as he reads over the latest one — <em> i like your hands and i want to hold them</em>. “Oh, what I would give to get notes like this. Daichi, isn’t this adorable?”</p><p>Daichi, who hadn’t been listening and is instead hastily scratching out answers for homework, says, “Of course, yeah. Super adorable.”</p><p>Suga sighs. Kiyoko rolls her eyes at Daichi’s utter obliviousness. Asahi feels briefly sympathetic for both parties, here, because Daichi’s willful unawareness and Suga’s principle of never making the first move is certainly not helping their whole situation. He then wonders, briefly, if his best-friend responsibilities constitute interference when it comes to useless pining like this. Maybe he’ll host an intervention. He can see the words <em> Stop Beating Around the Bush and Kiss Your Stupid Best Friend, Please! </em> scrawled across a banner hung in the clubroom. Kiyoko would definitely help him. The first-years, too. Nishinoya and Tanaka would certainly get a kick out of it.</p><p>But that’s a problem for future Asahi, because he’s dealing with his own Romance Problems right now. Well, they’re not really problems, but they're… <em> things</em>. Things Asahi has never had to deal with before, which therefore makes them things that take up all of his free time and brain power.</p><p>All this is to say that Nishinoya is pretty much the only thing on Asahi’s mind.</p><p>Nishinoya's omnipresence in all of Asahi's consciousness is actually pretty inconvenient at times, because he's found that he no longer pays as close attention in class as he used to. Instead, he doodles all over his worksheets and  looks out the window and tries to suppress smiles as he thinks about Nishinoya's laugh and his hands and that one expressive eyebrow of his with the gap shaved into it. This is probably not good for his heart or his blood pressure but Nishinoya is kind of addictive in the sense that his Everything delivers serotonin straight into Asahi's brain, so who cares if he is somewhat detrimental to Asahi’s overall health and wellbeing and also academic success. He forgets about all of that whenever Nishinoya touches him, anyway.</p><p>Which is another thing. Nishinoya is an incredibly tactile person, and his hands are always moving toward or around Asahi’s general vicinity. The first time he’d reached out and grabbed Asahi’s hand, Asahi had very nearly combusted. He was certain that steam was coming out of his ears, but he didn’t let go, and Nishinoya didn’t, either, and they walked home hand in hand. Nishinoya walked an extra two blocks to drop Asahi off at his house and promised to see him later, and Asahi’s sister had witnessed the whole exchange from the kitchen window and teased Asahi mercilessly in the following weeks because she’s almost as bad as Suga. Almost.</p><p>Nishinoya also insisted on braiding Asahi’s hair during their first training camp just a few weeks ago. “My hair isn’t really long enough,” Asahi had tried to say, but Nishinoya had just told him, “Yes it is,” and continued on plaiting Asahi’s hair into something he'd had called a crown, tucked into a circle around Asahi’s head with a whole lot of french braiding. With the hair out of his eyes everything was so much brighter. But then again, maybe that was just Nishinoya and his glow. </p><p>“Somebody looks happy,” Suga had commented then, all sly and yet still somehow innocent. Asahi thought that Sugawara Koushi was a very good real-life representation of an oxymoron because everything about his existence was impossible and also headache-inducing.</p><p>And Asahi hadn’t even bothered denying it, despite the fact that Suga looked more than a little menacing in that moment. “Yeah,” he’d said simply, forgoing shyness. Presently Asahi thinks maybe his resolution for second year has come to fruition after all, aided by the same person that he had initially believed to have destroyed it.</p><p>If Asahi’s life is all seams and knots, quilted together haphazardly in some places with ripped threads in others, then Nishinoya himself is a seam-ripper. Asahi’s only just starting to realize that maybe a seamless life isn’t so bad, after all. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Coach Ukai Ikkei comes and leaves with all of the intensity and severity of a thunderstorm. He’s a good coach, but a strict one. Easy mistakes result in five laps around the gym; too many of them in quick succession lead to five sets of suicides.</p><p>Asahi is an athletic guy but even he has his limits. Eventually he has to stop right in the middle, when he’s sure he’s already dead last, and wheeze in and out carefully so that he doesn’t wind up asphyxiating in the middle of his high school volleyball gym. </p><p>“Azumane,” Coach Ukai’s voice rings out. “Take five outside and then get back on the court.”</p><p>Asahi huffs between his gasps for breath — it’s all he can say. <em> Nothing</em>. His lungs squeeze painfully tight. So does his chest. He needs to get out of here before he starts to actually hyperventilate. </p><p>“Hey,” Nishinoya pipes up. Asahi looks over to see him directing his gaze at Coach Ukai. “Give him a break. He works harder than any of us.”</p><p>Asahi blinks, jaw dropped. Ukai does not falter when he says, “You take five too, Nishinoya. Clear your head.” His eyes are careful, assessing. </p><p>Nishinoya glares at him before reaching over and snatching Asahi’s wrist, tugging him out of the gym door and away from most of campus. Asahi is still kind of struggling to breath and they hadn’t even exchanged their shoes but Nishinoya is still tugging, and they eventually make it onto the grass of the nearby hill. He lets go and plops down on the ground. Asahi mutely follows suit. </p><p>“Thank you,” Asahi says quietly, after he’s managed to catch his breath. “I think?”</p><p>Nishinoya laughs. “It’s whatever. Nobody stands up against him even though he pushes us too much. So I’ll do it. Plus, he was being a real jerk to you, with all of those suicides.”</p><p>“I deserved them, though,” Asahi says, looking down at his shoes. “I kept messing up.”</p><p>“Just because you mess up doesn’t mean you should have to do all of that. We get the message after one lap, really. Mistakes happen. You can’t just circumvent them, it’s a part of learning.”</p><p>Asahi stares at him. “Did you just say circumvent?”</p><p>Noya huffs a laugh. “Guess I did.”</p><p>“You know, Nishinoya…" Asahi trails off, lips tugging upwards in a smile. "You’re kind of chivalrous, a bit.”</p><p>“Kind of? Please, I brought chivalry back to life!” he exclaims. He points to himself. “When I’m around, I’ll always defend your honor.”</p><p>Asahi makes an unidentifiable noise into his hands. He’s still kind of out of breath but he can’t tell if it’s from the drills or from Nishinoya’s overwhelming straightforwardness. He’s unfortunately really very cute. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to get in trouble.”</p><p>“Asahi, I get into trouble all of the time,” Nishinoya tells him seriously. “Trouble is like, my middle name. There’s nothing you can do or say to get me to do otherwise.”</p><p>Asahi thinks about that. “True,” he says, and then he turns to Nishinoya, no longer trying to hide his grin. “You did get into a fistfight on the first day of school with your best friend. And then you knocked over an innocent second-year and publicly humiliated him. Guess you are a bit of a delinquent, huh?”</p><p>Nishinoya stares at him long enough for Asahi to start to get self-conscious. He begins to shrink into himself but Nishinoya is quick to reach over and grab his hand. Actually his hand, this time, and not just his wrist, just like their walk home the other day. His fingers are so tiny where they wedge between Asahi’s, calloused yet somehow graceful and Asahi feels like a giant oaf, a bit, but also tiny and delicate because Nishinoya is such a big personality that he makes Asahi feel small, sometimes, in the best way possible. Asahi is certain that the sweat beading along his forehead is no longer from the workout.</p><p>“Asahi,” Nishinoya says. He leans forward until his forehead is pressed into Asahi’s neck. Asahi doesn’t move, completely frozen. When Nishinoya isn’t yelling his voice is ridiculously soft. “I like you so much.”</p><p>“Oh,” Asahi says, breathless and winded as if he didn’t already know that. As if it’s the first time all over again. “I, um.”</p><p>“And you like me too,” Nishinoya says. Asahi flushes when Nishinoya squeezes his hand. “I want to kiss you.”</p><p>Asahi’s immediate reaction is to make an odd wheezing sound, not all that dissimilar to the sound that air makes when it is slowly let out of a balloon. He covers his face with his free hand.</p><p>“This is so embarrassing,” he says into his palm.</p><p>He isn’t looking but he can practically feel Nishinoya’s frown. “Huh? Why? I don’t think it’s embarrassing.”</p><p>“I just — this has never — I’ve never done this before, and I kind of thought... I don’t know, I guess I thought it’d never happen to me. For some reason. I don’t know.”</p><p>“Oh,” Nishinoya says, pulling away and forcing Asahi to meet his eyes. “Wait a minute, Asahi, you can’t be saying that I’m the first person who’s ever confessed to you.”</p><p>“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Asahi mutters. He drops his hand away from his face and shifts around awkwardly.</p><p>“What,” Nishinoya says.</p><p>“I don’t know what I’m doing, and —”</p><p>“No, no — I just — how has nobody confessed to you before? You’re so — you’re so cool, and tall, and hot! You’re really hot, Asahi! You’re so chill and easy to talk to! You’re the ace of the freakin’ volleyball team! You’re amazing. The whole campus loves you!”</p><p>Asahi’s heart speeds up and it's drumming in his chest. “No… I don’t know how you can say those things so honestly,” he murmurs.</p><p>“Because it’s the truth.” His free hand reaches up to thread into the loose strands of Asahi’s hair. “Your hair is really long.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Asahi says.</p><p>“I like it a lot,” Noya tells him. He leans forward. “I want to kiss you. Would that be okay?”</p><p>“Yes,” Asahi immediately breathes, despite the awkwardness. This whole thing — the crush, the potential of the relationship — may be new to Asahi, and maybe he was kind of really scared, at first, but Nishinoya wedged his way into Asahi’s life and scared off his own fear. He truly is a force to be reckoned with, just like his t-shirt for the day loudly proclaims. Asahi’s seam-ripper. </p><p>Nishinoya leans forward. He has to tilt his head up a lot. Asahi doesn’t really mind. He leans down to meet him halfway.</p><p>“Hey, lovebirds,” Daichi’s voice calls, effectively shattering the mood. “It’s been way more than five minutes, you know.”</p><p>Asahi’s eyes open and he blinks down at Nishinoya’s startled face. They’re just a hair’s breadth away, noses brushing. Complete and utter embarrassment slowly creeps in. Oh, God. Asahi is going to die. He scrambles backward, away from Nishinoya and their previous compromising position. He does not meet Daichi’s eyes. “Daichi,” he croaks.</p><p>“Dammit,” Nishinoya mutters. He stands up and looks up at Daichi, then points an accusatory finger directly in his face, which is certainly a bold move. “I’ll remember this, Daichi. The day you interrupted our first kiss. I’ll mention it at our wedding when Suga is Asahi’s best man and you aren’t.”</p><p>Daichi’s eyebrows shoot up. “Thinking of marriage already? Isn’t that a bit… Premature?”</p><p>Asahi wheezes again. Neither Daichi nor Nishinoya spare him a glance.</p><p>“Like you aren’t already planning your wedding with Suga,” Nishinoya declares, rolling his eyes. Asahi squeaks. Is Nishinoya really that perceptive? Daichi and Suga’s <em>thing</em> isn’t necessarily subtle but there’s no way anyone else could’ve picked up on it — at least, Asahi had thought so. </p><p>Daichi’s face colors bright red, and at first Asahi thinks it’s in anger but his expression doesn’t match up. His lips twitch and his brows furrow but his eyes flit all over, refusing to make contact with either Asahi or Nishinoya’s own. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, very obviously knowing exactly what Nishinoya is talking about. He’s flustered. Asahi hasn’t really ever seen this part of Daichi before. It’s admittedly very amusing, and he feels a smile begin to take shape on his face. Nishinoya Yuu made Daichi <em> flustered</em>. Asahi, admittedly, falls in love a little bit more. </p><p>Nishinoya grins triumphantly. “Sure you don’t. C’mon, Asahi,” Nishinoya beckons, hands outstretched. Asahi huffs out a low breath and lets Nishinoya’s tiny deceptively strong muscles haul all five foot nine of Asahi’s body up. He doesn’t let go of his hand as they walk back. Asahi’s face feels as hot as Daichi’s still looks. Asahi’s gonna get an earful from both Daichi and Suga about this later.</p><p>For now he squeezes Nishinoya’s hand and lets him lead the way back to the gym. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Days pass by and opportunities to see Nishinoya dwindle. Asahi is forced to join a study group for his underwhelmingly average grades by his overbearing parents, and Nishinoya starts wracking up detentions, too. Tanaka explains that Nishinoya quite literally does not have a filter and often speaks out in class, resulting in this detentions, which makes a lot of sense considering the entire situation that happened with Ukai. Asahi doesn't really have a problem with being romantically involved with a kind-of delinquent but Suga seems to think it is the funniest thing ever, and brings it up to Asahi any chance he gets. Why Asahi is still friends with him remains unclear.</p><p>Since Nishinoya is a delinquent and evidently does not care about trivial things such as getting into trouble with the various faculty members of Karasuno High, one day he quite literally sneaks into Asahi’s classroom during a study period by using the back door by Asahi’s desk.</p><p>“Nishinoya?” Asahi says, surprised, as Nishinoya cracks open the door slowly and then begins to army crawl his way inside. He looks like a tiny worm. “What are you — how’d you —”</p><p>“English is boring and I want to be with you,” Nishinoya explains once he gets close enough. He looks around to make sure nobody is watching — surprisingly, they aren’t — and then he slinks up and sits at the next desk over which is conveniently empty. Nobody even looks twice at him. Asahi’s teacher continues to snore at the front of the classroom. “Ryuu told me that I’d get in trouble but he clearly doesn’t know just how stealthy I can be. Did you see that? I’m so good.”</p><p>Asahi laughs, quiet. “Yeah. That was something.”</p><p>Nishinoya grins, then his eyes catch on Asahi’s sketchbook laid out on the desk. Asahi prefers the back of the classroom because nobody can really see what he’s doing, and his teacher thinks he’s doing schoolwork like a good student. He never is. Maybe he’s just as bad as Nishinoya. </p><p>“Whatcha drawing?” Nishinoya asks, clearly very curious, and Asahi blushes, embarrassed, but figures this is where he should start to be brave. </p><p>He angles his sketchbook so that Nishinoya can see. He stares for a few moments that only serve to heighten Asahi’s nerves, and then he says, “You’re amazing. These are insane! Do you design them yourself?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Asahi answers, face angled down so that his loose hair disguises the red of his cheeks. “I like fashion. I want to be a designer someday. In the city, I think. I don’t know if — I probably can’t get into all of the good schools, since my grades aren’t all that great, but I don’t know. It’s a nice dream. I like to think about it a lot, especially when I get all… you know.”</p><p>Nishinoya smiles. His cheeks are red, too. “Asahi, you’re so…”</p><p>“So..?” Asahi repeats, trailing off.</p><p>“I don’t think there are any words in any language that can describe you accurately. I don’t know. You make me want to do things for you. You make me want to be the best person that I can be.”</p><p>Asahi groans. “Nishinoya,” he says, face hot, and he glances around the room to see if anyone is paying them any attention. They’re not. He turns back to Nishinoya. “You can’t keep saying these things.”</p><p>Nishinoya laughs aloud. “Asahi, what happened? I never used to be able to compliment you without you actually looking like you were going into cardiac arrest.”</p><p>“Well. I got used to your shit,” Asahi says. </p><p>Nishinoya eyes widen, and then he laughs a bit louder. “Asahi, I like you so much. You gotta stop.”</p><p>Asahi looks up. “Stop what?”</p><p>“Being you. If you do — I don’t know if my heart can handle it. I feel like I’m a live wire whenever I’m with you.”</p><p>Asahi stares at him. Nishinoya leans forward, looking way too endearing and earnest and kissable. Asahi feels his heartbeat quicken.</p><p>“If our first kiss is in my literature classroom,” he mutters without breaking eye contact, “I will break up with you on the spot.”</p><p>Nishinoya stops in his tracks. He probably wants to say a million different things; he keeps opening his mouth and then closing it. Now he looks like a fish. </p><p>“Break up? So, we’re dating?” is what Nishinoya settles on, voice sounding a bit higher than normal.</p><p>Asahi blinks. “Yes,” he says, but his voice is completely uncertain, too.</p><p>They both stare at each other.</p><p>“Dammit,” Nishinoya says. “Asahi, this would be <em> such </em> a good first kiss moment.”</p><p>Asahi hums, turning back to face his desk. “That’s a shame, then,” he says.</p><p>“Asahi,” Nishinoya groans.</p><p>“Yes,” Asahi says.</p><p>“Asahi.”</p><p>“Yes, Nishinoya.”</p><p>“Asahi-<em>iii</em>,” Nishinoya repeats, letting his head plunk onto the wood of his desk.</p><p>Asahi smiles and shakes his head. He sketches a few more lines out, patiently waiting for Nishinoya to be able to form coherent sentences again. He thinks about sunsets and wonders how he can replicate that onto clothes — a skirt, a bodice, loose pants, a long scarf. All pink and orange and yellow blended together like watercolors. A rose-golden collection. That’ll be his first project.</p><p>“One day, I’m going to travel the world with you,” Nishinoya declares, dragging Asahi back into the moment. He blinks, processing the statement, then turns and peers at Nishinoya, confused.</p><p>“Why — Nishinoya, why did you make that sound like a threat?”</p><p>“What? No, I didn’t.”</p><p>“Yeah, you did. You said it so menacingly.”</p><p>“Well, fine. Maybe it is a threat. Maybe I’m threatening you with a happy future, ever think of that?”</p><p>Asahi suppresses a grin. “Consider me scared straight.”</p><p>“Who even <em>are</em> you?” Nishinoya asks, flabbergasted.</p><p>The back door creaks open again, and then Tanaka is poking his head in and whisper-shouting, “Noya! You gotta get to class! You’re in, like, so much trouble!”</p><p>“Fine!” Nishinoya whisper-shouts back. “Asahi,” he says again, and they make eye contact. “I’m kissing you in my head right now. Also, taking you around the world. Where do you wanna go first?”</p><p>“Paris, probably,” Asahi answers thoughtfully. “Or maybe New York. For fashion week?”</p><p>“Consider it done,” Nishinoya says, reaching out and squeezing Asahi’s hand in a wordless promise, even though he’s a high school first year and probably has no money to his name beyond the shabby bills stuffed into his back pocket that he uses to buy Asahi stuff in their odd silent courting ritual. </p><p>It’s a nice dream to hold onto, anyway, Asahi thinks, as he stares at Nishinoya’s retreating back through the closing doorway.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Their first kiss does not happen on the hill just a few minutes away from the volleyball gym, nor does it happen in Asahi’s literature slash study period classroom. It happens on the walk home, when everything is rose-golden and Nishinoya is holding Asahi’s hand.</p><p>His fingers are short and stubby and they fit wonderfully between Asahi’s own. Asahi feels small again, in the best way possible. He doesn’t want to hide behind the curtain of his own hair. Nishinoya had managed to tie it back for him today, again, in a little braid that one of his three older sisters had taught him how to do, so Asahi doesn’t hide. The world is so much clearer, today.</p><p>So when Nishinoya stops short in the middle of the street, just across Sakanoshita, Asahi stops, too. The cat is out. It sees them and meows once, loudly, from its position on a nearby fence, basking in the fading light. The sunset paints Nishinoya golden. He is golden. His cheeks are rosy. </p><p>“I’m about to kiss you,” Nishinoya says, blunt in the way that Asahi was terrified of, at first. It used to make him want to melt into the ground. Now it just makes him melt.</p><p>“Okay,” Asahi responds. “Good.”</p><p>“When I kiss you, I need you to pretend that I’m taller than I actually am and that I am not, in fact, standing on my tiptoes.”</p><p>“I like that you have to stand on your tiptoes,” Asahi confesses, to which Nishinoya grins, brilliant, and grabs Asahi’s collar to pull him downward. </p><p>It ends like this: Asahi is being kissed by a rowdy first-year who had ended up publicly humiliating him just a couple of months ago by confessing in front of the entire student body. Asahi is being kissed and he is kissing back and this is his first kiss but it is a good one. He holds Nishinoya's face in his hands and traces the curves of his cheeks with his thumbs. He isn't sweating. Nishinoya is grinning suddenly and it's all teeth and he pulls back a minute, just to peer up into Asahi's face, and Asahi blinks at him until he shoves his hands into Asahi's hair and tugs, braid be damned, and then they're kissing again.</p><p>When Nishinoya laughs, afterward, Asahi boxes that moment up, too.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Asahi’s third-year growth spurt brings him to six foot zero; it brings Nishinoya to tears (it is unclear whether they are of a jealous or appreciative nature)<br/>i often ask myself: why were nishinoya and tanaka fistfighting in the lobby on their first day of high school? and then i think it's funnier to leave it open ended. actually the answer is they're just Like That.<br/>also also this fic was a very fun way to project all of my anxiety feelings onto Asahi, my characterization is probably definitely off a little bit but. like. whatever.<br/>anyway come say hi on <a href="https://twitter.com/SAFFlRE">twit</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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